


between us captains

by owlsshadows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crushes, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 04:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16653979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlsshadows/pseuds/owlsshadows
Summary: It's Kuroo's birthday, and he is called out by Sawamura for some captainly advice.





	between us captains

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank Emma, Ash and the warm cocoon I built by the fireplace for their wholesome support while I was writing this.
> 
> Written for Kuroo's birthday.

“Kuroo-kun?” comes a shout, little strained, little uncertain.

Kuroo spins on his heels to turn to the voice, and sees Karasuno’s advisor – Take-chan-sensei? something like that – carrying a pile of boxes probably taller than himself. With the top box swaying dangerously, and the teacher’s leg trembling visibly, Kuroo does not hesitate to walk back and take a few boxes over before he asks back.

“Yes, sensei?”

“Oh, thanks. I would like to ask for your help, if it’s not too troubling, and you have already walked over here from the gym, to help me carry these boxes over there–”

The man talks a lot, jabbering and stuttering along the way. Kuroo follows him across the corridor and down the main hall towards the gyms, occasionally adding a short “yeah”. They walk through the doors of the gym, walking past the benches where some members of both teams – Karasuno and Nekoma – are still dressing, chatting about the match enthusiastically.

They got their second invitation to Miyagi after both Karasuno and Nekoma had qualified for the Nationals, and Nekomata sensei accepted the offer with such a vigorous smile – Kuroo just happened to see it – as he imagines great generals accepted declarations of war in the past. A weekend in Miyagi sounded good, of course, and it really excited the team – Yamamoto, Lev and Inuoka being its loudest applauders, while Kenma made that little face with the sparkly eyes. But for Kuroo, a weekend in Miyagi carried certain… dangers, per se. Amorphous feelings and vague affections churned his stomach at the sound of the short training trip and accompanied his waking hours; a fondness taking shape in form of a Karasuno third year threatened his subconscious in his dreams.

Kuroo feels thankful now for the rigorousness of this weekend camp, the tension of each practice match claiming his focus entirely, dragging his eyes away from certain thighs and placing them on the ball instead. The intervals, he finds a bit harder – sweat glistening on Sawamura’s temple and dropping from his square shaped jaw, water bottle held by strong fingers, lifted to delicious lips by strong arms – and he escapes more and more frequently to the corridors, marching down to the furthermost of restrooms to wash his face.

His eyes, he could civilize, but his heart roams unleashed, faster than his brain could ever catch up to.

Not that this is the very first time he had a crush – he “liked” idols, actresses before, but it was never so real and felt never so close. He had feelings of attraction before, swooning after a pretty upperclassman or oh-let-it-be the coach of the tennis club – but with Sawamura Daichi, physical attraction got company in the form of some deep, mutual understanding, a sense of comradeship hiding behind the façade of fated opponents.

Kuroo feels at peace around Sawamura, a strong sense of belonging overcoming him – and at the same time, he finds that standing in the vicinity of Karasuno’s captain burns his insides with a fervent fire that his heart may have borrowed straight from hell.

Lost in thought and eyes wandering to the group of high school boys, Kuroo does not notice that Take-chan-sensei has stopped, and walks right into the teacher. It is only thanks to his nimbleness and composure – or the remnants of, in case of the latter – that he does not drop the boxes he carries, but his shoulder still gives out an unhealthy cracking sound as he maneuvers the boxes down to the floor in a steady pace.

“Are you okay, Kuroo-kun?” the teacher asks worried.

“Yes, yes,” Kuroo replies. “I’m sorry sensei, I didn’t notice that you have stopped.”

“No, I’m sorry, no wonder you couldn’t see from all those boxes, I should’ve been more vocal about my plans where to put these and all… but are you really sure that you’re okay? I heard your shoulder cracking. I wouldn’t survive if I hurt an athlete, especially right before the nationals, and Kuroo-kun, you’re such a vital part of Nekoma! Oh, what if someone thinks this was all a conspiracy to get rid of an opponent, Karasuno’s reputation will be tarnished by me–”

“No worries, sensei,” Kuroo says, standing up and cracking his shoulders a few times. “It’s all good, my shoulders always make these noises.

“But–”

“Once you get to my age, you might experience the same,” Kuroo winks. The panicked expression of Take-chan-sensei finally dissolves, to be replaced by one of mild worry and confusion.

“How old are you again, Kuroo-kun?”

“I’m eighteen sharp, sensei! Actually, I became eighteen today.”

“Congratulations! I mean, happy birthday!” the teacher replies, worry easing into a smile on his soft features. “Though I guess, I won’t really be your age.”

“Who knows?” Kuroo replies, leaving a little tease in his tone.

“It was still a very extreme movement you did there, balancing all those boxes. Tell me at all costs if you feel any weird by tonight!”

“Rest assured, sensei, it won’t happen. I don’t get injured this easy,” Kuroo smiles back.

“Thank goodness,” the teacher replies, reaching out and giving a very delicate pat to Kuroo’s shoulder. “There’s no battle of the trash heap without its main actors! Now go, change and refresh yourself before dinner time.”

 

*

 

“Kuroo?” His best nightmare finds him while he talks with Kai and Yaku. Sawamura gives him an awkward smile and a wave that motions him towards the opponent team’s captain.

“Yeah?” he asks stopping before Sawamura.

“Can I uh… ask you to come with me?” Karasuno’s captain asks, rubbing the back of his neck suspiciously.

Kuroo decides to play it cool, no matter how all of his senses scream danger. Sawamura looks just real cute when he is flustered.

“Sure thing, what for?”

“There’re some things I would like to discuss and ask your opinion on,” Sawamura says, finally finding his voice. “Just between us captains.”

Kuroo nods, following Sawamura behind the gym. Sawamura leads him to a secluded nook of the schoolyard, a crevice of open space stuck between the gym they played in what seems to be a storage building.

 _The kind of place where people in romance dramas do confessions_ , Kuroo’s mind supplies, unsolicited.

“So?” Kuroo asks, feeling antsy over his own imagination. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You better keep an eye out for Lev and Inuoka,” Sawamura starts, and before Kuroo can start to protest in protection of his first years, he continues, “our vice principal is not very fond of the volleyball club, thanks to certain… past experiences,” Sawamura phrases carefully, and for a second he goes pale. “At the moment he likes us because we got into the Nationals, but this may change.”

“What did Shrimpy do?” Kuroo asks, a shit-eating grin probing his lips. He saw the vice principal of Karasuno once; when they arrived, and the man came to greet them. Kuroo pinned him as a self-important, shallow person.

“I’d rather not tell,” Sawamura winces.

“I knew it! It could only be Number Ten.” The shit-eating grin spreads, like some virus, across Kuroo’s face.

“Partially he’s at fault,” Sawamura admits.

“How big part?”

“Big.”

“Oya~ now you really have to tell me what he did.”

“We don’t go there. If I could, I would delete that scene from my memory.”

“Did he break something with a stray ball?”

“Worse.”

“Of course it’s worse,” Kuroo steps sideways, bringing a hand to his lips, striking a contemplating pose.

If something, he prides himself on his deduction skills. His brain, under that mess of a hair, works just fine.

It takes him a few slanted glances towards Sawamura, a raised brow, and a telltale sign in response from Karasuno’s captain to make his final verdict.

“It has to do with his toupee, doesn’t it?”

The growl that follows confirms him in his suspicions.

“Not bad, that Shrimpy is,” Kuroo guffaws as Sawamura hides his face in his hands.

“Don’t make me remember it.”

“So, I should get Lev and Inuoka to believe,” Kuroo summarizes, relenting upon seeing Sawamura’s suffering.

“Exactly,” Karasuno’s captain replies.

“That’s… yeah. I doubt there would be problems with Inuoka,” Kuroo says. “He’s a good kid with a good head on his neck. Lev on the other hand is the dumbest creature I had to deal with ever. I can’t make promises.”

“Just for one day, can’t you keep him restrained?”

“How? Keep him on a leash?”

“Honestly, I’ve been wondering about that sometimes,” Sawamura says, and Kuroo can almost see it, Sawamura walking with Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka and Nishinoya on a rope, like how dog sitters take a bunch of dogs to walk at the same time.

“You have it hard, huh?” he pats Sawamura on the back, turning back towards the gym. “Thanks for the warning though. I will try my best.”

He barely takes one step however, when a hand latches on the back of his jacket, pulling him back.

“This is not all!” Sawamura says.

“Oh, sorry,” Kuroo turns back. “I’m listening.”

“Yes,” Sawamura looks him in the eye.

“Yes, I’m listening. What else do you want to discuss?”

“I want to ask your opinion.”

“Okay, bring it on.”

“Protection,” Sawamura says. “You don’t use.”

For a second, Kuroo forgets how breathing works.

“Please tell me we're talking about kneepads,” he asks.

“What else…?” Sawamura starts before he turns into a tomato, blessedly red from one ear to another. “Of course I’m talking about kneepads!”

“Bless your soul Sawamura and thanks for the heart attack.”

“I’m really sorry. I really meant kneepads. I had no intention to… I would never just… oh my god, Kuroo, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all good,” Kuroo pats Sawamura’s shoulder, his hand lingering just to reassure Karasuno’s captain of his forgiveness.

“I wanted to ask why you don’t use…” Sawamura starts, still red, “ _kneepads_. Your team focuses a lot on receives, and you do a lot of dives, so it would seem more logical to–”

“I find them uncomfortable,” Kuroo replies. “Also, the pits of my knees tend to sweat a lot under them and I get rashes. It’s annoying.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so extremely sorry.”

“No worries, Sawamura, it happens, we’re humans.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. Let us, um, return back?” Kuroo asks, guiding Sawamura by his shoulder back towards the gym.

Sawamura however is almost the same weight as him despite their height difference and stays immobile as if his feet took roots in the grass.

“Sawamura?” Kuroo raises a brow.

Karasuno’s captain does not meet his gaze, but stares at some point on the wall beside them.

“Sorry, Kuroo, there’s one more thing I have to verify.” Sawamura’s words are low and hushed. His hands, planted on both sides on Kuroo’s arms, firm.

“Yeah?” Kuroo pries, voice hitching as his heart rate jumps.

“Can you please stand here?” Sawamura asks, guiding Kuroo up against the wall.

Kuroo’s heart splendidly forgets how to beat; a sudden knot forms in his throat and he can’t gulp strong enough to get rid of it. All sense of peace and belonging he has ever felt near Sawamura is scorched by those hands sliding up from his shoulders to the sides of his face and all he feels is pure, relentless desire that makes him blink slowly, glancing down at Sawamura from behind half-lidded eyes.

“I’m standing,” Kuroo says, licking his bottom lip – oh why he does that, why did his tongue has to dart out right at this moment, what kind of wicked part of his subconscious decided this was a sensible time to lick his lips–

Sawamura’s hands find the sides of his face, fingers sliding behind his ears gently, thumbs holding him intact, and Sawamura raises – oh, the trickster in Kuroo wishes to glance down to check whether he is on his tiptoes or not, but his screaming brain cannot spare a thought on the trickster, because Sawamura’s lips brush against his, and oh.

Sawamura kisses him.

And Kuroo kisses back.

They kiss.

And they are sloppy.

Sawamura is soft and chaste; Kuroo is fervent and hungry and open-mouthed and they are so terribly off-sync, yet it feels so terribly right Kuroo can’t help but give out a noise, and it just turns out to be a mixture of an exhilarated squeal and manic laughter.

It is all a disaster, but the best disaster that ever happened to Kuroo.

“You’re way too eager,” Sawamura says, a smile playing on his wet, red lips.

“So?” Kuroo asks, playing cocky. “Did you manage to verify what you needed?”

“Hnn. Not entirely sure,” Sawamura replies, rubbing the overwhelming amount of saliva off his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “If you let me, I would continue my assessment.”

“If it means more kisses, I’m gladly at your service. But for anything more, I think this is not the right place.”

“No more!” Sawamura protests, turning bright red once again. “Kuroo, what do you think I am?”

“A gullible man,” Kuroo smirks, placing his hands on the arms of Sawamura as if they were handles, pulling Karasuno’s captain onto him.

“Not any worse than you,” Sawamura whispers against his lips in reply, engaging in a much more coordinated continuation to their initial extravaganza.

 

*

 

“Kuro?” Kenma asks, tone so very unimpressed.

It takes Kuroo one split second to tear himself away from Karasuno’s captain – still holding those muscular arms though for good measure and as a solid anchor to real life; otherwise Kuroo feels he would float away as a helium-filled balloon.

“Oh. You seem busy,” Kenma says again, looking up from his handheld game.

“Busy? Who? Me? No!” Kuroo stutters, hands squeezing the arms under their touch.

“Just wanted to let you know that the others are waiting in the gym. But I guess I let you finish first whatever business you have?” Kenma offers, and turns the corner the way he came – swift and silent.

“We should go,” Sawamura says soon after, seemingly _relieved_ , which is not an expression Kuroo would expect to see on someone’s face who has just been caught making out behind the gym.

“Waiiit a minute,” Kuroo says, and this time he is the one to grab a fistful of Sawamura’s jacket and drag him backwards. “This seems fishy.”

“It’s a surprise birthday party,” Sawamura supplies.

“Well. No surprise anymore. But also.”

“But also?” Sawamura repeats after him, pressing a short kiss on Kuroo’s lips. “Happy Birthday!”

“Naaah, Sawamura, if you think you can just get away with this like this, I–”

“You’re a handful to deal with and I’m bad with distractions,” Sawamura says, leaning in for another kiss.

“Are you on your tiptoes now?”

“No.”

“Liar. Let me have at least this, after you’ve made an utter fool out of me.”

“An utter fool?”

“That protection thing?!”

“That was an _accident_!” Sawamura says, his blush spreading down to his neck rapidly. “I was panicked because you wanted to return and I was supposed to distract you until they put everything together.”

“You should’ve started with the kissing.”

“Next time.”


End file.
